


The Girls One

by bactaqueen



Series: You're the One [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anilingus, Bucky likes girls, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, F/F, F/M, Fellatio, Modern AU, Natasha and Peggy are totally a power couple, PIV Sex, Pegging, Spanking, Steve's breaking his heart, f/f/m threesome, good job Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-16
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 21:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1085813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bactaqueen/pseuds/bactaqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve won't be exclusive and Bucky doesn't want another man. Lucky for him, he's been headhunted, and when he won't go to work overseas, Natasha and Peggy have other uses for him. (Sex uses. Bucky has a lot of fun with girls.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Recognizable characters belong to their respective owners. No profit is earned and no infringement is intended.
> 
> Author’s Note: Bucky really likes girls and he likes having whatever kind of sex they want.

She was slender and pale and, best of all, a redhead. She parked herself on the center stool at the bar, ordered his best top-shelf vodka straight, and spent the rest of the night watching him. 

Bucky was in love, not dead, and she was exceptional. At least he could hide the evidence of what she did to him under the tails of his shirt. Black on black was good for hiding more than splashed liquor. A couple of hours before closing, when he looked over to find a candied cherry between her lips, he ducked into the stockroom to call Steve. 

"I may not be home tonight." 

"Oh. All right." 

Steve sounded disappointed, but Steve also blew at least three different guys at the gym that week, and Bucky was just tired of it. He felt old. He felt tired in a way that couldn't be fixed with twelve solid hours of sleep. Steve made him feel used. 

Being used wasn't what he minded. What he minded was the broken heart. 

He carried a fresh case of beer into the bar and as he did, he felt her eyes on him. Unwavering. She scared him a little. 

Bucky liked it. 

But as the night wore on, it occurred to him that he didn't have the first clue about how to talk to a woman like that. 

It turned out he didn't have to. 

She tipped her empty glass at him and ordered a bottle of water. He brought it to her and when he set it on the bar in front of her, she reached out. She wrapped her slim fingers around his left wrist. Bucky froze. She had a shooter's callouses. 

She leaned in, smile in her eyes and on her lips. "When do you get off?" 

Bucky laughed. "I can wait for the lady," he said. 

She smiled at him, serene and beguiling, and released his wrist to reach for her little purse. She withdrew a business card and handed it over, scissored between two fingers. 

Bucky took it, read her name--Natasha Romanoff--and her title--executive search recruiter. _Headhunter._ The blood drained from his face and he reevaluated the situation. 

"You know why I'm here, Sergeant." Next, across the top of the bar, came a slip of paper with handwritten information: a hotel name and a room number. "Come find me after work. Let's talk." She gathered her purse, her water, and slid off of her chair with the grace of a cat. She didn't look back. 

Bucky thought about it. He shouldn't have, he knew. He liked his job, he liked his free time, and most of all, he liked Steve. He didn't miss the Army, the work he did in the shadows, in the sand. What he missed was being needed; sure, he'd climbed to manager pretty fast here, but it wasn't the same. They didn't need him. He could have lived with that, but it wasn't just work. Steve wouldn't commit and Bucky didn't understand why; he just knew that Steve didn't need him. It would be a lie to say he'd never thought of leaving. He spent a lot of time wondering if he should even stick around. So a chance like this...

He was pretty sure he was going to turn Natasha down, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to spend some time with a beautiful woman who wanted him for his skills, even if it was strictly business. 

As usual, Bucky was the last one to leave. He double-checked the closing shift's work, then let himself out and locked up. 

Outside, it was cool enough to make him button his coat. Head down, shoulders hunched, he started walking. 

It was a long walk. His shoulder started to ache, as much from the chill as from work, and his feet started to drag a little, but he walked, and he thought. It had been a few years since he and Steve had left the Army--the med board for him, and he'd fought tooth and nail to stay in, but there just wasn't a place in the new Army for an injured sniper. He thought, when they'd gotten out, when they'd moved in together, that he and Steve would stop being... what they were only when they could be. The stolen moments when Steve had come home on leave, the stolen moments when they were both in, had been fine when it was all Bucky knew he could have. But he wanted more. He'd thought, when they'd gotten the place in Williamsburg, that he'd finally get it. But Steve had taken a separate room. He went to the gym every day. Some days he came back with red lips and shame in his eyes and Bucky didn't judge, he couldn't, because Steve had been so tight-laced for so long, he'd had to be, and if Steve was having a good time then Bucky wanted to be happy for him--but that didn't change the hurt. He wanted Steve. He really wanted Steve, and he wanted him all to himself. He wanted a yellow ring on his finger and their names on everything together, he wanted to share a room and a bed, he wanted kids like they'd been, kids no one else wanted. He wanted what the Colonel and Mrs. Phillips had made. He wanted that for himself and he wanted it with Steve. 

Instead, he was walking to a boutique hotel in Brooklyn to meet with a Russian headhunter, half-hoping the way she'd looked at him wasn't all about getting him to work for her. 

He gave his name to the girl at reception, and while she called up to Natasha's room--Bucky might not have been much of a gentleman, but he knew better than to show up unannounced to a woman's hotel room--he looked around the lobby. It was... loud. Trendy. A little overstimulating, but Bucky knew that was a matter of personal taste. 

"You can go on up, Mr. Barnes," the girl said. 

Bucky couldn't help the smile or the wink. "Thanks." 

She was cute when she blushed. 

He rode the elevator up to her floor, running his fingers through his hair, unbuttoning his coat, and trying to smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt. He caught a whiff of himself, liquor and smoke, and winced. Well, maybe he was worried for nothing. He fidgeted and tried not to. He could admit to himself when he was nervous. 

And when he was half-ready to be swayed. Maybe some distance would help him figure out what to do about Steve. 

Natasha opened the door wearing nothing but a blue silk dressing gown. The dark of the silk made her skin glow and he could see her nipples poked against the fabric. He tried not to stare. 

She looked him over. "You came." There was the barest note of surprise in her voice. 

"It can't hurt to hear what you have to say." He smiled at her, feeling a lot less sure of himself than he had even before she opened the door. 

But she smiled back. It was that small, mysterious smile that told him nothing, but it was a smile; he'd take it. She waved him in. 

In the small sitting room that clearly doubled as an office, she offered him vodka--"Brought from home," she said, "real vodka." It burned going down and settled hot inside him. Bucky relaxed in his chair, stretched his legs, and gave her a half-smile. 

Natasha smiled back, sharp and feral. With her red hair curling around her face, she made him think of a fox. 

"My client has several operations along the southern border," she began. And she went on, describing mine-clearing missions and security details without revealing too much. They wanted former special forces operatives to train and lead the teams. 

It seemed shady as hell to Bucky. But it also seemed exciting, and as he sipped his vodka and listened to her outline the compensation package and confidentiality requirements, he seriously considered accepting the employment contract. It would get him out of Brooklyn. Get him away from Steve. Give him time and distance and maybe, just maybe, he'd get the clear mind he needed to make decisions. 

But... 

Natasha watched him carefully. "You're not going to agree," she said. 

Bucky snorted. "I'm impressed." 

She shrugged. "I'm not here to impress you." She set her empty glass on the table between their chairs and stretched. "It's all right. I told them you wouldn't agree, but they sent me, anyway." 

"How'd you know?" Bucky finished his vodka. It looked like he would be dismissed soon. He drew his knees up and started buttoning up his jacket. 

She gave him a cool look. "I was very thorough in my research. I know about Captain Rogers." 

Bucky's heart seized. What kind of research had she done that she could find out about Steve? What did she know? Steve was always so careful about not revealing too much about them, about maintaining their cover of _just friends_. 

Natasha got up then. She asked, "How serious are things with Captain Rogers?" 

Resisting the urge to scoff, Bucky only shrugged. How serious could they be when Steve kept hooking up with guys at the gym? 

Natasha smiled again. This time, it didn't make him feel like prey; it sent an entirely different thrill down his spine. "I had ulterior motives for inviting you here," she said. Her eyes sparkled. Maybe it was just a trick of the light... She went on, "Normally, I'd have taken you to brunch. How do you feel about high heels and short skirts, Sergeant Barnes?" 

"Call me James," Bucky said. He let his eyes roam her, from the pale V of skin showing between the lapels of her robe to her ankle beneath the hem. He met her eyes again. "Heels and skirts are nice, Ms. Romanoff, but I like the blue robe." 

"Natasha, please." She pushed open the door that led to the bedroom. "Would you like to stay the night, James?" 

_Yes. But I shouldn't._ Bucky looked at her. As he did, Natasha loosened the sash of her robe and let it fall open. She was naked beneath; Bucky saw creamy skin, pink nipples, flame-red curls. His eyes swept up to her face. 

She started backing into her bedroom. 

Excusing himself would have been rude. Bucky was a lot of things--rude to a lady wasn't one of them. He got up and followed her. He spared a thought for Steve, but where he thought he should feel guilt, he didn't. He didn't feel anything. 

Just inside the bedroom, Natasha curled her hands in the front of Bucky's coat and pulled him into a kiss. She surprised him; the kiss wasn't rough, it wasn't full of teeth and the iron taste of blood. It was warm, it was slow, it was sweet. A greeting. A test. For all that she made him think of a hungry predator, for all that she was terrifying, Bucky realized that she was just a girl. 

Just a girl. 

Not Steve. And she didn't have to be. She tasted lonely and sharp when he dipped his tongue into her mouth. She felt vulnerable when he slid his arms into the robe to wrap around her back and gathered her to his chest. He knew those feelings. 

Surprise made an _O_ of her mouth when she pulled away. She searched his face and Bucky let her, hoping she'd find what she was looking for. Her eyes were bright and glassy. She was flushed and her lips were red, wet. She blinked at him. 

Something in her face softened. "I misjudged you, James." 

Bucky smiled a little and couldn't hold back the bitter sadness. "I think you judged me just right, Natasha." 

Her eyes roved his face again and Bucky didn't bother even trying to fake an expression. It wouldn't do any good--she knew too much already. Whatever she saw seemed to satisfy her, because her fingers started working to open the buttons of his coat, and then she was pushing it off his shoulders. 

She took her time undressing him. Bucky was allowed to toe off his boots, but any other help he tried to offer was met with her kisses on his hands, or her taking his hands to put them in her hair, on her shoulders, on her waist. It was... nice. It was nice to be someone's focus for once, to be the one touched and undressed instead of doing the touching and undressing. He was hard by the time she finished. He kind of liked standing in front of someone who didn't know him like Steve did, someone he thought he maybe still had the chance of impressing. The scars on his shoulder had mostly faded, and he'd kept up some of the physical therapy and training, so he wasn't as soft in the middle as he'd been right after... 

He shoved the thought away. 

Natasha looked up at him. Bucky raked his fingers through her hair and tried to smile; in response, she wrapped one of her small calloused hands around his cock and squeezed gently. Bucky sighed and closed his eyes. He didn't intend to be selfish, but he let her stroke him. He touched her hair, her neck, her shoulders, her back while she mouthed at his collarbones and his chest, while she nuzzled the hair over his breastbone. Her palm was rough, her fingers tight, and it felt so good. 

He stopped her short of sinking to her knees. He opened his eyes and rubbed his fingers through her hair. 

"What do you want?" 

That's how the ended up on the bed, with him mapping the topography of her with his hands and his mouth. He lingered wherever got the best sounds out of her. She was so responsive and when he finally, finally sank between her legs, she was hot and wet and let him take as long as he wanted. He didn't put his fingers inside her at all for the first one or for the second; he didn't put them inside her until she was molten liquid, and when he did, it seemed to go on forever, her fingers in his hair and her thighs clamped around his head and her body shaking. 

For all that he loved Steve, he _enjoyed_ this. If Steve could have those guys at the gym, well, Bucky felt he could have this. 

He was so hard it hurt, but he knew he wouldn't mind this, lying between her thighs, kissing her skin and stroking her leg, watching up the length of her body as her breathing slowed. She was flushed, a little bit sweaty, and absolutely beautiful. 

She looked down at him, her eyes dark and calculating. "That wasn't what I expected." 

"Maybe you shouldn't have expected." 

She ran her fingers through his hair. "Is this how you treat all of your one-night-stands, James?" 

Bucky shrugged. "I guess. I don't have a lot of them." Truth was, he'd never gone to bed so fast with anyone. He grinned to hide how sad that really sounded. "I'm kind of picky about who gets to see me naked." 

"Hmm," was all she said. 

Natasha tugged at his hair. Bucky slid up her body and she pushed him over, tossed a leg over him and settled on his thighs. He ran his hands up and down her sides, back up to play with her breasts. She leaned over him and retrieved a condom from the unopened box on the nightstand. Bucky cupped her breasts and lifted his head to suck at the tips, to taste the flavor of her skin and feel her nipples pebble and harden against his tongue. 

She sighed, then pulled away from him. Bucky's hands fell to her hips as she rolled the condom down on his cock. She grasped the root of him and slid over him, slid down. 

Bucky sighed and closed his eyes, his fingers tightening at her hips. She felt good. Better than good. Tight, hot, and wet--so wet. He could still taste her on his tongue, smell her. He ran his hands up from her hips, around to her back, and when she leaned forward, when she braced one hand on his chest and pushed the other fingers through his hair, he held on. 

She moved slowly at first, just the slow slide of him into and out of her body. Then her hips shifted, and she tightened, and when she lowered herself, she ground against him, taking him deep and holding him there, greedy. 

"Who are you thinking about?" she whispered, breath tickling his ear, lips on his earlobe. 

He turned into her touch, kissed open mouth. "You," he murmured. 

She came one more time before she bit his ear, before she whispered for him to come, before she pressed her hips tight to his and just rocked. 

Afterward, they stretched out side by side, only their fingers touching. Bucky stared through cigarette smoke at the ceiling, and he listened to her beside him. She was on his left, and it didn't bother him. 

He didn't feel like hiding. 

"You're more of a gentleman than I expected," she said. 

Bucky wasn't sure how to take that, so he didn't say anything. 

"What do you like?" 

Steve. He liked Steve. He didn't say that. He shrugged, and rolled his head so he could quirk a smile at her. "I'll try anything you want to try." He winked. "As long as you're having a good time, so am I." His grin turned wicked. "What do you like?" 

Unflinching and deadpan, she said, "Things that have scared lesser men." 

Bucky sobered a little. He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. "I guess it's a good thing I'm not a lesser man." He took another drag off his own cigarette, the smoke scraping down his throat and the heat filling his lungs. He exhaled. "How often do you come to New York?" 

Natasha narrowed her eyes at him. "I am not looking for a boyfriend." 

Bucky looked back at the ceiling. Who was? And if they were, they sure as hell didn't want him. He was good enough to fuck, at least. "I didn't think you were. I just thought New York is pretty convenient for international flights, and if you've got itches to scratch..." He shrugged. It was a stupid idea, anyway. 

Bucky started wondering where he'd left his clothes. 

Natasha put out her cigarette and took his to finish it. She blew out the last breath of smoke and flicked it to the crystal ashtray on the nightstand, then straddled his shoulders. 

She smelled rich and hot and dark. Bucky looked up at her as she threaded her fingers into his hair. 

"How much pain do you like, James?" 

Bucky pressed his face between her thighs and let her hurt him until she came in a flood over his mouth and down his chin. 

*

Several meetings later, in the remains of the destroyed hotel room, Bucky lay draped across the foot of the big bed, eyes closed and chest heaving. Fireworks were still going off on the insides of his eyelids. 

She really knew how to wreck him. 

Natasha sat with her back against the headboard. Dimly, over the rush of blood in his ears, he heard the flick of her lighter and the intake of breath. His nose twitched when he smelled the fresh-lit cigarette. 

"Do you think we're exclusive?" 

He hoped not. He thought of the night before, when he'd fucked Steve into the mattress, bit his shoulder and left bruises on his hips. 

See if his gym hookups noticed _those_. 

"Nope." 

Natasha laughed. "I have a friendly rival," she said. "An English woman in the same line of work." She paused, and Bucky could imagine her pursed red lips. "Would you be deeply offended, James, if I pointed her in your direction?" 

She wanted to pimp him out. Bucky laughed breathlessly and rolled up on his side. He propped his head on his hand and asked, "You wanna write my number on the bathroom wall? _'For a good time, call James Barnes.'_ " 

She smiled at him, sharp and amused. "You're very discreet." 

Bucky laughed again. "Tell me about her." 

Natasha took a long draw on her cigarette and held her breath, gathering her thoughts. Bucky couldn't help staring at her mouth. 

"She's pretty," she started, and gave him an amused look. "But that doesn't matter to you nearly as much as you like to pretend it does." 

Bucky couldn't even argue with her. 

Natasha went on, "We get along. No." She frowned. "I like her." She met Bucky's eyes. 

Oh. _Oh._ He understood. His lips twitched. Somehow, he wasn't at all surprised. "British, huh?" 

" _English_ ," Natasha said, like there was a difference. 

Bucky supposed there was, but he shrugged, anyway. "Well, it's all the same. I do love a woman with an accent." 

Natasha gave him a private smile. She put out her cigarette and reached for another condom. "I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time it's Peggy who's after Bucky. He turns down the offered job but not the rest. Smut ensues, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Recognizable characters belong to their respective owners. No profit is earned and no infringement is intended.

Peggy Carter was short and curvy, with dark hair that curled softly around her face and eyes that made Bucky think of the best chocolate he ever had. She was overdressed for the hipster coffee shop in her smart skirt and pressed blouse, but the looks she got didn't seem to faze her at all. She paid for his order--his sugary mess of coffee and syrup and Steve's red eye--then slipped him her business card. Bucky turned it over to find her hotel information written in neat script on the back. He half-smiled. It felt like he was in some international spy game. 

"Are you free in a couple of hours?" 

Peggy cocked an eyebrow. "I am, but are you, Sergeant?" 

Bucky winked. "I work nights, Ms. Carter." The barista called his name then, so Bucky pocketed her business card and asked, "Does eleven work for you?" 

Amused expression on her pretty face, Peggy said, "Yes." 

Bucky gathered the drinks and tried not to think too much about pretty girls and hotel rooms. "Thanks again." 

Back home, Bucky left the coffee and the bakery pastries in the living room. He could hear Steve's shower running and for a moment, thought of joining him. But that was kind of slutty even for him, so he left Steve's breakfast on the table near his books and carried his own out onto the fire escape. While he listened to water pipes rattle in the walls and the sounds of the city below, he drank his coffee and nibbled at his pastry, and he wondered what kind of woman Peggy Carter was. The smart skirt and red lips didn't tell him as much as he hoped. 

The shower went off and the door clicked open, but Bucky didn't turn to look until he heard Steve in the living room behind him. 

"Thanks, Buck." 

Bucky climbed back in through the window and took in the sight of Steve, fresh from a shower and wearing just his jeans. "Did you get any sleep?" 

Steve had a mouthful of Danish. "Couple hours," he mumbled. 

Bucky shook his head. "You still wanna--?" 

"Yeah-- Yes, please. Semester portfolio is due next week and I'm still three life drawings short." 

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. "What the hell have you been doing all semester?" 

Steve blushed and wouldn't meet his eyes, and Bucky had his answer. He ignored the way his heart clenched. Instead, he thought about Peggy and the sweet curve of her breasts under the crisp white button-down. 

"Where do you want me?" he asked Steve. 

Two hours later, Steve had completed one drawing, packed his messenger bag, and was on his way out the door with Bucky on his heels. 

Steve looked at him, questions all over his face. "Shouldn't you get some sleep? I thought you work tonight." 

Bucky smiled. "Business meeting," he said easily. 

The shift of Steve's expression let Bucky know that Steve understood. 

'Business meetings' were what he'd been calling his assignations with Natasha. Steve didn't need to know Natasha wasn't in town. 

"Have fun," Steve said glumly. 

Bucky bumped his shoulder to Steve's, friendly. So what if his heart was breaking a little? He should've been used to the feeling. "Be good in class, dear." He laid a smacking kiss on Steve's cheek and tried not to think about how Steve would spend the afternoon at the gym. 

*

 

Peggy wasn't staying in Brooklyn. The hotel she'd chosen was across the bridge, in Manhattan; it was older than the hotels Natasha favored, a little more posh and old-fashioned. Bucky felt underdressed in his dark jeans and darker t-shirt. He felt worse when the severe-looking woman behind the counter raked her eyes over him and her mouth pinched in disapproval. 

Then he remembered that he'd nearly died for his country, so she could go fuck herself. 

"James Barnes," he said. "I'm here to see Peggy Carter. Could you call her room for me?" He gave her Peggy's room number and leaned against the elbow-high reception counter to wait. 

She made a small noise that told Bucky she wasn't happy to do it, but he pretended he didn't notice. He looked around the lobby while she made the call. He should be used to this by now, he thought. He'd spent enough time in hotels like this in the last year. He didn't think he'd ever get used to it. 

"You can go up," the severe-looking woman said shortly. She pointed. "Use those elevators." 

Bucky backed away from the reception desk. "Thanks," he said. 

In the elevator this time, he didn't fidget so much. He had a better idea of what he was walking into. 

He was still surprised when Peggy opened the door in nothing but a pale gold silk dressing gown that clung to her curves. She'd let her hair down and her makeup was less dramatic. Bucky grinned. 

She took him to the little sitting area of her suite and it was a repeat of the first meeting he had with Natasha. Peggy gave him whiskey--good, strong, Irish whiskey she'd brought with her. They drank and she told him about her company and why they'd sent her after him. 

Bucky laughed. Natasha at least had come with real work. "I'm supposed to look scary for rich assholes?" he asked. 

Peggy shared a secret smile with him. "It makes them feel special," she explained. 

Bucky thought they were pretty special, all right. He sipped his drink to keep from saying that. 

"It pays well," she went on. "Whatever Natasha offered you, doubled, plus benefits and expenses." 

Bucky snorted. "I wish I'd known there was a market for guys like me." He might not have come to Brooklyn. 

Peggy set her glass aside and settled back in her chair. She crossed her legs, the halves of the robe sliding apart to bare her calves, and Bucky glanced down before he raised his eyes back to hers. He thought of how smooth and warm she'd be under his hands, of the way her knees and then her thighs would part for him. He had to shove those thoughts away before he got ahead of himself. 

Peggy shrugged and said, "There's always work for people like you, James." 

Bucky smiled sardonically at her. "I appreciate that, ma'am." 

"But your answer is no?" 

"But my answer is no." 

Peggy smirked. "Natasha told me you'd turn me down." 

So Nat talked about him. "What else did Natasha say?" 

"That you're a first-class fuck, Sergeant Barnes." 

Bucky nearly choked on his tongue. "That's... quite a review," he sputtered, and even less smoothly, added, "Care to test that?" 

Darkness closed down Peggy's pretty face, drawing her brows together and firming her red lips into a line. Bucky set his drink aside, feeling like a fool, and opened his mouth to apologize. He knew better than to-- 

Peggy laughed sharply. "Natasha told me to be careful. She said you pick up on everything." 

Bucky shrugged and grinned. "You ladies work hard to keep the world safe. The least we can do is keep you satisfied." And he was quite happy to do the satisfying if they'd let him. He winked. "What do you want?" 

Peggy's expression fell again and Bucky frowned. 

He asked, gently, "How long's it been?" thinking maybe she was nervous about that. Peggy didn't strike him as the type to be insecure, but if it had been a while... 

She scowled at him. 

He wasn't sure what that meant, so he added, "We can take it slow." He didn't mind taking his time. It was nice, even. Bucky sat back and met her eyes. "What did Natasha tell you about me? Really?" 

Peggy's gaze leveled with his. "That you'll give me what I want and probably things I don't know I need." 

That sobered Bucky. He was just a guy. All he could do was what she told him to do--and guess at the rest. "I'll do my best," he said softly. It was all he could really offer. 

It was all he could ever really offer. 

Peggy swept her eyes over him. He knew when he was being judged. He tried not to fidget while she made up her mind. 

He felt like he could breathe when she gave a little nod and stood up. 

Peggy crossed the small sitting room to the bedroom. She paused in the doorway to glance over her shoulder at him, and when she was satisfied that Bucky would follow, she stepped into the bedroom. 

Like Natasha, she wasted no time. She slipped out of her robe, her back to him. Bucky froze. Scars. All over her back, from her shoulders to her knees. Thin white scars, from knives or razors, and round, puckered ones, from burns or bullets. He swallowed. The questions were on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them. He wouldn't ask about scars. When she looked again over her shoulder--Bucky knew what she was looking for, but there was no way in hell she'd see it on his face--he started undressing himself. He left his shorts on and kicked his clothes to the side. He caught the way she glanced at the bathroom and did the math. 

He was starting to understand. "Do you want a backrub?" he offered. 

Peggy shook her hair over her shoulders and didn't look at him. "There's lube, too, on the counter beside the lotion. You'll need that." 

Bucky padded into the bathroom. He found them both on the counter beside the sink, the small tube of spa lotion standing upright and the bottle of lubricant. He took the unopened box of condoms, too, glad she'd gotten the ones she liked. He had some, of course, but it was always better to use what the lady liked. 

Back in the bedroom, he was surprised to see she hadn't made herself comfortable on the bed. He thought maybe she still wasn't sure, so he started to tell her that they didn't have to do anything. 

She gave him a sharp look over her bare shoulder. "I want anal. I want it the way women are supposed to want to be made love to missionary, and you're to use your fingers on my clitoris while you fuck me. If you have a problem with that, Sergeant, then you can go." 

Bucky blinked. Her voice was harsh and invited no argument, not even negotiation. He wondered how many times she'd asked for what she wanted and been denied. He smiled easily. "Can I at least have a kiss?" 

She visibly relaxed, her face softening and her shoulders relaxing. "You're not bothered?" 

Bucky shrugged. "What a lady likes in bed is her own damn business, and a gentleman's duty to provide." 

Peggy laughed, a sharp sound more like a bark. "You're no gentleman, Barnes." 

Bucky grinned. "Nope, but that doesn't mean I won't give you what you want." 

Peggy smiled at him. She seemed to see right through him, and Bucky thought it was the only thing he disliked about her--and Natasha. 

He held the tube and the bottle up to her, and he said, "Well?" 

She was on her stomach on the bed, her head on one of the thick soft pillows and her arms tucked under it. Bucky spared a thought for Steve and how much he'd appreciate the aesthetics of the view. Then Bucky climbed onto the bed and straddled Peggy's thighs and thought about how much he appreciated it for entirely different reasons. 

He warmed the lotion in his hands. The muscles of her back were so tense and tight that he was glad she couldn't see him wince. Years of physical therapy and Steve's grateful groans post-workout gave him enough confidence to be patient. He worked from her shoulders to the small of her back, along her spine and out. He rubbed her arms, her neck, and, when the lotion was gone, he even raked the tips of his fingers over her scalp. When his left hand got sore and started to cramp, he held it close and flexed his fingers and kept at her with his right hand. It didn't take nearly as long as he thought it would for her to start to melt, for her muscles to soften and her body to relax. 

Bucky laid down on top of her. His cock--hard inside his shorts--fit neatly against her ass. He combed his fingers through her hair and kissed the back of her shoulder, the curve her neck. She smelled like white flowers and dark citrus and heat. When she turned her face a little, he rubbed her hair between his fingers as he kissed her temple and the line of her cheek. She wet her lips. He kissed her mouth, slow and sweet, his left hand on the back of her head. 

When they parted, she smiled at him and said, "And that's all you'll get." 

He laughed and brushed his lips to her cheek. "Yes, ma'am." 

He worked his way down, with hands and mouth, careful not to linger on the scars--he knew better than anyone what self-consciousness could do in moments like this--but not shying away from them, either. He lingered instead where he got the best sounds: her side, high on her ribs; her spine, just under her shoulder blades; the small of her back, and lower, in the little dip just above the cleft of her ass. Peggy drew her knees up and arched her back, presenting herself--reminding him of what she'd asked for. 

As if he might have forgotten. 

Bucky splayed his fingers over her ass and spread her cheeks apart. Her cunt was already wet, the lips plump and open. He smiled to himself and kissed the small of her back, flicked his tongue into that little dip, and licked down. 

She yelped, jumping and squirming away. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" 

Bucky pressed a wet kiss to her hot skin. "What I'm supposed to." He licked at her again. "If this is the first time you've ever had anyone lick your asshole, Ms. Carter, those jerks haven't been treating you right." He looked up. 

Peggy was looking over her shoulder at him. Her face was flushed and her eyes were wild and bright. She closed them and licked her lips. "Weren't they?" Her voice shook. 

Bucky smiled at her and ducked his head once more. 

He kept her open with one hand and slipped the other between her legs to stroke fingers over her pussy. She was gooey and hot and he rubbed the tip of one finger lightly over her clit while he lapped at her asshole, while he made a point of his tongue and fucked her with it. Peggy moaned quietly. Her knees wobbled and her back arched and she came once, shuddering. Her asshole fluttered against his tongue. Bucky reached for the lube. 

It was super-slick, silicone-based. Bucky applied some to her and more to his fingers. He pressed the pad of his thumb to the pucker of her asshole and rubbed circles, gently, as he slipped the fingers of the other hand between the lips of her cunt to stroke her clit again. When she trembled, he pushed just the tip of his thumb into her. 

Peggy gave a long, drawn-out sigh of relief. 

Something in his chest tightened. He understood that sense of relief, of finally getting something you wanted when it didn't seem like anyone would give it to you, when it was something you couldn't get on your own. He kissed the small of her back and kept up the steady strokes over her clit as he removed his thumb and replaced it with his index finger. He watched what he could see of her face. 

He saw the pain tighten her features the moment before she gasped, and he paused. 

"Go--" She breathed in. "Go on. It's just..." 

"Does it hurt?" he asked her quietly. 

She started to shake her head, then relented. "A little," she admitted. "I forgot. You can go on." 

He hesitated. He was going about it all wrong, he thought, too used to Steve and to himself. It was time to change tactics. He removed his finger to her soft note of protest. He tried it again, slower this time, with more lube, and more attention to her clit. It was different fingering a girl; there was nothing to search for. It was strictly about loosening her up, and Bucky thought about the way she'd reacted when he'd just touched her, so he was thorough with those strokes, too. He kept his fingers moving against her clit, not enough to get her off, just enough to get her thrumming, to make her _want_. 

When one finger slipped in and out of her ass with ease, he added more lube and pressed the tips of two fingers against her. 

She went off, a firecracker in his hands. He held his breath and watched her ride it out, let her ass pull his fingers in, listened to her moans and the soft, panting cries. He didn't fuck her through it, he just stroked her clit and waited for the shaking to subside. 

He had two fingers in her ass to the second knuckle and he could feel where she'd flooded his hand. It could be enough for anyone, he thought. "Do you want me to go on?" 

Her whole body was flushed. Her hair was a little sweaty at the temples and at her nape. She licked her lips and looked over her shoulder at him, keened softly. "Please," she said, and it was drawn out, the end of it hissed. 

He prepped her with two fingers, fucking her gently, scissoring them, twisting them. She loosened slowly, and he kept having to remind himself to breathe. He withdrew his fingers to add more lube and as he leaned up a little, he took a moment to just look at her. His cock hurt. 

He pressed two fingers back into her. "How do you feel about fingers in your cunt, too?" 

He saw the ripple of pleasure move through her and she moaned as she nodded. 

Bucky's chest felt tight again. He'd missed this, the genuine pleasure. Not that Steve and Natasha didn't enjoy it, but there really was something special about giving someone something she desperately wanted. It made him feel warm and a little light-headed. He removed his fingers and wiped them on the coverlet as he reached for a condom. He tore open the package and rolled it on, then applied more lube. More lube was _always_ a good idea. He gripped her hips with both hands and lined himself up. 

Peggy was up on hands and knees, her head bowed and her legs apart. Bucky wished he could hold her hair or wrap his arms around her or kiss her or something as he pushed in. It was too much, too intense, and he needed to ground himself in contact. His fingers twitched against her hips. 

She rippled and moaned, and he caught the way her fingers curled in the bedcovers. It wasn't all good. Halfway in, he stopped. He started to ask-- 

"Damn you, James Barnes, don't you dare stop. Keep going!" 

Bucky bit his lips, half to hide a smile in case she looked back and half to center himself with the pain. He pushed in. 

When he was sheathed, when she was tight and hot and impossibly welcoming, he slumped a little over her. He slipped his clean hand from her hip, down and around, and brushed the tips of his fingers over her clitoris. 

She made a low, desperate sound. "Put them in. Put them in, damn it!" 

He trembled, but did as he was told, hooking two fingers into her and pressing his palm against her. She began to move before he could even think to do it. 

So he matched her rhythm while she took what she needed, what she wanted. She was wet and tight around his fingers, hot and tight around his cock. He bit his lips and desperately held back; it had been a long, long time since he'd gone off before his partner, but Peggy Carter tested his control. He fucked her as she fucked herself on him, and when she came again, shuddering and shaking and crying out in short, sharp little bursts, he heard her. 

"Bloody finish, damn you!" 

It was all the permission he needed. He spilled into the condom, hot around himself, and he thrust in deep one final time as he ground the palm of his hand against her clit. She gasped. 

When he finally got his breathing back under control, he realized she was still shaking--from the strain of holding herself up. He pulled out of her and listened to her soft hiss. As soon as he separated, Peggy flopped down on the bed with a satisfied grunt. Bucky smiled to himself and slid off the bed, snagging the lube and the lotion and discreetly shucking the condom. 

In the bathroom, he washed his hands and rinsed his mouth with her mouthwash. He wet a washcloth from the stack of clean ones on the rack over the toilet and carried it back to her. 

Peggy opened her eyes, took him in, then turned her face away and held her hand out. "I can do it myself." 

Her fingers shook. He was pretty sure she couldn't move even if she wanted to. He didn't say anything, just leaned over her and cleaned her gently. 

He left the washcloth on the bathroom floor, killed the lights in there, and made his way back to the bedroom. He was cold and a little sore. She'd rolled to her back and wriggled under the covers, and there was space enough in the bed for him. Well, he was sure Natasha had told her more than just the facts, and even if she hadn't, Peggy had been plenty bossy. Bucky took a page from her book. 

"I'm not sure what kind of guys you're used to, but I'm not cheap. So you'd better shove over and share the pillows." 

She laughed at him. But she flipped the covers back and patted the bed. 

Bucky started to warm, started to relax, when she cuddled up to his side and laid her head on his bad shoulder. Her hair was soft and he could still smell sex in the air, but he could smell her shampoo and her soap, too. He put his arm around her and didn't even miss a cigarette. 

She stroked her fingers through the hair over his breastbone. "You know, in my line of work, there aren't many chances for human contact. Not like this. And men, well... They're rarely as accommodating as you are." 

Bucky didn't resist kissing the top of her head even though he knew he probably should have. He liked affection. He couldn't help it. It didn't matter if she loved him or if she even wanted him, really wanted him. He wouldn't have been surprised if she never wanted him again. He hoped she did, but if she didn't, well, he was glad for what he had and glad he could help. He closed his eyes, exhaled slowly, and forced those thoughts away. He needed to just enjoy what he had for the moment. 

"I understand," he said, thinking of the Army and the few chances during those years for something that had felt really good, and how often those few chances featured Steve. Bucky figured he wouldn't hurt anything, so as he listened to Peggy's breathing slow and even out, he went on. "I like Nat, you know. And so far I like you pretty well, too." 

She huffed a laugh. He smiled. 

"I know it's dumb," he finished softly, "but if I can help out, I'm happy to do what I can." 

He could feel her eyes on him but couldn't sense her reaction, so he risked a glance down. It made him uncomfortable, having her look at him so frankly. So he quirked a smile. 

"Maybe the next time you're both in New York, you'd like the three of us to..." 

He expected to be shot down, smacked, something. Even an eye-roll and a groan. Anything to change that look on her face, like she could see right through him. 

Peggy frowned. "Is that not what you and Natasha discussed?" 

"What?" Bucky blinked. 

"I have a... bucket list, I think is the term. Things I'd like to do before I die. Threesomes are on that list." 

"Three...somes... As in plural?" 

Peggy gave him a wicked grin. 

Bucky laughed. He ran his fingers through her hair and smiled at her, hoping it didn't look as sad as it felt. These gorgeous women wanted him because he was useful. "Whatever you want," he said. "If I can do it, I will." 

Peggy's eyes sparkled. "Even if we want _you_ on the bottom?" 

Bucky shrugged. There were lots of things he still hadn't done--and bottoming for a pretty girl wearing a toy was one of them. He didn't hate the thought. It wasn't often Steve topped. Bucky smiled at her. "Hey, I know all about the wonders of the prostate." 

Peggy gave him a fond smile like she hadn't expected anything he'd said. "You're a rare man, James Barnes." 

Bucky shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't all that special, he thought. No, he knew. Because if he was special, maybe then... 

Peggy pushed herself up and slid a leg over him. "How do you feel about a repeat performance?" 

He glanced toward the bathroom. "The lube--" 

She took his hands and lifted them to her breasts. "We don't need it this time." 

Relieved, Bucky sank a little into the pillows. He cupped her breasts and rubbed his thumbs over her hard brown nipples. He smiled. "Whatever you want, ma'am." 

"That's what I like to hear."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls are in town together and Bucky gets the weekend off from work to spend it with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Recognizable characters belong to their respective owners. No profit is earned and no infringement is intended.
> 
> Author's Note: I haven't forgotten about this series!

On a cold morning, after Steve had left for the day, Bucky cleaned up from breakfast, fixed himself a fresh cup of coffee, and sat down to check his email. He had things to do--domestic things, and he didn't let himself dwell on the fact that he was, essentially, Steve's househusband most days--but he wanted to forget the way Steve wouldn't meet his eyes as he'd left. He wanted distraction and wasn't above hoping for a message from Natasha or Peggy.

It had been a few months since he'd seen either of them. He missed them. He knew they wouldn't approve of that, but he was well past needing anyone's approval for his feelings. Steve had taught him that.

Natasha's name was the third in his inbox. Bucky smiled as he clicked on it, and his smile widened into a grin--and his body went hot--as he read the message.

The girls would be in town. Together. For a whole weekend. And they wanted to see him.

It would be tough. He regularly worked the weekend shifts now that he was a senior manager, and the recent new hires needed plenty of supervision. But for Peggy and Natasha? Bucky reached for his phone. The girls would be in town in three weeks. That was plenty of notice to give his assistant manager.

He swiped through the lock screen and thumbed open his messaging app. An international number he didn't recognize flashed incoming. He couldn't help grinning as he answered the call.

"What time is it where you are?"

"Late," she said, and her voice was thick and tired, her accent heavy. "I see you read my email."

Bucky's smile warmed. He could picture her in bed, in some anonymous hotel room halfway around the world, hair sleep-tousled. She was beautiful like that. "I've got a real job, you know. I'm not just your rich lady's whore," he teased.

Natasha went very quiet and very still for a moment. She asked, "Do you feel you need compensation, James?"

Bucky's stomach plummeted. "Jesus Christ, Nat, _no_. I wouldn't do this if you were _paying_ me." At least if they weren't paying him, he knew they wanted him. He swallowed hard. "I'll be free. I--" He hesitated. Then, _hell,_ he thought. He needed to tell her. "I miss seeing you. Peggy, too."

She scoffed. "Don't be sentimental," she scolded, but he heard the affection in her voice.

He hoped she didn't hear the tinge of bitterness in his own when he said, "Can't help it, _lapochka_. It's just who I am."

"Yes," she agreed softly. "We'll see you soon. Good night."

"Good night."

*

He got them flowers.

Bucky scooped the two small bunches--violets for Peggy and lilies for Natasha--off the bottom shelf in the refrigerator and bumped the door closed. He checked his old canvas duffel one more time, making sure that he hadn't forgotten anything and that it was zipped, before he slung it over his shoulder and headed out of the kitchen, across the living room.

Steve was on the couch, bare feet propped on the coffee table, beer on the end table and sketchbook in hand. He eyed Bucky over the top of his sketchbook.

"Hot date?"

"Business meeting," Bucky said with a grin.

Steve's expression was one of disapproval, but Bucky's grin didn't falter. Steve didn't say anything else. Bucky pretended he didn't feel that little flare of satisfaction. Three times in the last seven days, Steve had come back from the gym with swollen lips and shame in his eyes, and Bucky had felt like his heart had been scraped over a cheese grater each time. He told himself over and over that he shouldn't feel less than total love for the love of his life, but it hurt, and it made him angry. Steve crawled into his bed every night. Steve came home to him. No one else was fucking him, so why wouldn't Steve just give Bucky everything? Why wasn't Bucky enough? What was so wrong with him?

If Steve asked, Bucky would call the girls right now and cancel their weekend.

But Steve didn't ask, because Steve didn't want him the way Bucky wanted Steve. So Bucky winked.

"I'll bring back all the gory details," he promised. It was a lie. He'd never discussed Natasha or Peggy with Steve. He probably never would.

He certainly had no intention of ever telling Steve how they cushioned his heart.

"Have fun," Steve said, face and eyes and tone as morose as if he'd just been told his dog died.

"Don't wait up, sweetheart." Bucky blew him an exaggerated kiss and made his escape.

They were staying in Manhattan. He had long enough to shove Steve out of his head by the time he got to Peggy's favorite hotel. This weekend wasn't about Steve. Bucky bypassed the reception desk and headed straight for the bank of elevators. He had to hide a reckless smile. He knew what he looked like and he knew enough to know how the receptionists were looking at him. They could judge all they wanted. He was about to spend the weekend with the two most intimidating, intelligent, and beautiful women he'd ever met.

He laughed at himself in the elevator.

This was his life now. Hopelessly in love with his best friend and a booty call for a couple of women who could--and probably would--kill him without a second thought.

How was it even real?

Their room was at the end of the silent hall. The place was posh enough that he knew the weekend's stay was setting Peggy back as much as Bucky made in six months his last year in the Army. How he'd fallen in with women of this class, he'd never figure out. But he wasn't about to turn them down.

When he knocked, they answered together. He grinned. It looked like they'd started without him. He knew that neither wore anything beneath her soft, shiny dressing gown, and he recognized that flush on Natasha's cheeks and that particular glitter in Peggy's eyes.

"You're late," Peggy said, her lips turned down.

He wasn't late. They just hadn't waited for him. He offered the flowers. "I'm sorry."

Peggy looked at the violets and then at the lilies, glanced at Natasha, and gave him a fondly exasperated look. "James. You brought us _flowers_?"

He shrugged.

"You ridiculous man."

Natasha slipped her arm from Peggy's and plucked the lilies from his grasp. "I think they're lovely. Even if you are stupid." She smiled at him behind the white petals.

Bucky's heart felt a little full at that.

Peggy's fingers were warm when they grazed his as she took the violets from him. "You ridiculous man," she murmured again, stepping to the side. "Come in."

Bucky stepped between them, and as soon as he'd cleared the door, Natasha's fingers were curving around the back of his neck and she was pulling him into a kiss. Her lips were warm and wet and he tasted Peggy on her tongue, smelled Peggy on her skin. If he hadn't been ready before that moment, he certainly was then. She pulled away, her tongue flicking against his lower lip, and the smile in her eyes revealed all the smug satisfaction she felt.

"Don't be greedy, Natasha," Peggy chastised.

"I found him first," Natasha countered mildly. But her fingers slipped down his neck and she stepped aside.

"Yes, and I'll always be very glad you did." Peggy curled her fingers in the front of Bucky's shirt and tugged. "Thank you for the flowers," she said.

She didn't give him the chance to respond, just pulled him into a long slow kiss. She tasted like Natasha and heat. Her body brushed his, and her warmth went through him.

Peggy stepped away and Bucky wondered if he'd breathe right at all until Sunday. He gave her a dopey smile.

She laughed at him.

Natasha said, "Why did you bring luggage, James?"

He grinned at her. "I didn't know what you had in mind. I thought I'd come prepared."

*

He wasn't prepared.

Divested of his shoes, jacket, and shirt, he sat on the Rococo sofa with Natasha in his lap. Her hair fell around their faces and he had one arm inside her robe, wrapped around her waist, his hand splayed on her back. Her breasts brushed his collarbones and her thighs framed his hips. She kissed to tease, the slide of her lips, the slip of her tongue, the puff of her breath against his cheek. He pulled her closer, greedier for her than he thought he was allowed to be, and when she dragged her lips down the side of his neck, she laughed at him.

Peggy, at least, didn't kiss to tease. Bucky put his hand in her hair and surged gratefully into her kisses, deep and wet, the press of lips and the tangle of tongues.

Natasha bit the curve of his neck and slid one hand down the front of his chest, over his belly, and to the front of his jeans. She cupped him, her fingers teasing the length of his cock.

"What are you so excited about?" she murmured against his skin.

"I'm not  _that_ stupid," he mumbled against Peggy's cheek.

"That's very much up for debate," she teased. She bit at his bottom lip.

Bucky rubbed at her scalp and dipped his head to kiss her neck and the top of her shoulder. "You try having two gorgeous girls sitting on top of you and see if you don't get a little _excited_ ," he huffed, half-laughing. His hips rolled.

Natasha licked her way to his ear. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

Bucky turned his face to capture her mouth with his. "Good." He wanted to be everywhere.

Peggy bit his earlobe and kissed her way down his neck. He was focused on Natasha's fingers working open his jeans and didn't notice where Peggy was headed until her lips brushed the scars of his bad shoulder.

He froze. They'd touched his shoulder, of course. Both of them had. But it had always been incidental. When they'd wrapped their arms around him in the shower, or grabbed him as he pinned them against the wall and sank to his knees, or pressed them down into the bed. It had never been deliberate. It had never been like this, Peggy's soft lips gentle on his scars.

Even Steve avoided his shoulder.

Natasha kissed the edge of his mouth and his chin. "Something wrong, James?"

Bucky's heart had suddenly climbed into his throat. He thought he was going to choke. He turned his face, kissed Natasha fiercely, and tried to shift closer to Peggy, to get her back to his neck. He tightened his hold on Natasha.

"What do you want?" he breathed when he broke the kiss.

Natasha's smile was feral. She wrapped her hand around his cock and tugged. "Everything."

Bucky turned his face into Peggy's hair and slid his hand down her back, over her ass. He grabbed a handful of firm warm flesh and squeezed. "You're going to have to be more specific than that."

That was how he ended up on his hands and knees in the bedroom. Natasha was on the padded bench, her legs draped over his shoulders, her hands in his hair, her body arched gracefully back over the foot of the bed. Her hips rocked, and Bucky licked, and Natasha dug her nails into his scalp. The pain was familiar distraction, grounding him firmly in the moment, with her.

Until Peggy's lips brushed his shoulder and then his spine. Until Peggy's fingers tucked into the waist of his jeans and eased them over his hips and down to his knees.

He faltered when Peggy tugged down his shorts. Natasha gripped him tighter, pressed her thighs to his ears.

"Don't you stop," she ordered.

Bucky pressed his lips harder to the slick skin of her parted labia and resumed licking, most of his attention here, on getting the rhythm right, on pushing her into the orgasm she chased.

He faltered again when Peggy's hand came down sharp on his ass.

Natasha made a low, wordless demand and dragged him close again. "James." There was the barest edge of a whine to her voice. She was close, too close for him to keep getting distracted.

Peggy spanked him again.

Bucky closed his eyes tight and tried not to pay too much attention to Peggy's hands, the sharp sting of her palm and the shameless press of her fingers into his heated flesh. He tried to focus on Natasha, wet and hot and so close he could feel the little flutters in her muscles, could hear how close she was in the catch of her breath and feel it in the clench of her fingers.

When she came, it was with a long sigh of relief. Her thighs eased away from his head and her fingers in his hair loosened.

He wore her on his cheeks, on his chin, and every stuttered breath he took was full of her. He turned his face to pant against the inside of her thigh.

"Peggy--"

He heard the snap of latex and the squish of lube dispensed. Natasha's fingers were gentle in his hair, and then Peggy's fingers were teasing down the cleft of his ass.

"Don't make me come." The plea sounded pathetic even to his own ears. It had a been a while since he'd had _that_ , and he was on a hair trigger as it was.

Natasha twisted his hair and Peggy leaned over and bit his shoulder.

"You'll come when I want you to come, and don't you forget it."

He started to protest again, but the words died on his tongue when the tip of her finger stroked over his hole. Natasha shifted, removing the comfort of her thigh, of her heat against him. He shook.

Natasha slipped to her knees between him and the bench, her fingers in his hair guiding him up to his knees. Bucky caught the flash of her smile before she leaned in. She kissed him, pressing her body close. She licked the taste of herself off his lips and out of his mouth. Her body moved against his, warm and soft and wanting. Bucky knew this--this was familiar. He put his hand in Natasha's hair and kissed her back for everything he was worth.

Undeterred, Peggy moved closer. Her lips brushed his bad shoulder, gentle over old scars, and up his neck. She kissed the hinge of his jaw as Natasha broke away, and Bucky's head was turned. Peggy's mouth was there, hot and sweet. She kissed him slowly, one hand on his hip, one hand between his thighs easing them gently apart. Bucky sank. Peggy licked at his lips as she pulled away.

Words failed him as they pressed smiling kisses to his skin. Bucky reached back to put his fingers in Peggy's hair, closed his eyes, and gave himself up. He was too used to being the one in charge, the one in control, the one _doing_. Peggy kneaded his hip with one hand and teased him with the other before she pushed in one finger, then two, as gentle with him as he ever was with her until his hips rocked back and her fingertips pressed against the place inside that made him see fireworks on the inside of his eyelids.

"Oh, God."

"Not God." Natasha nipped the line of his neck as she wrapped her hand around his cock. "Just us, James."

All he could do while they worked him, fingers inside and fingers around, was hang on. He pressed his face to Natasha's neck and stopped breathing when he came, full-body shudders and a drawn-out sense of relief.

He felt a little dizzy and weak. Peggy withdrew her fingers. Bucky bit the inside of his mouth to silence the whimper of loss. Natasha stroked his belly and hips, idle, gentle, patient. He tried not to dwell on how it made him feel when they touched him like that.

Peggy laughed. Bucky lifted his head from Natasha's shoulder and turned to watch her peel off the glove. Her eyes were bright-dark, her face flushed--pride and arousal, he recognized that particular expression. It made him grin.

"What's next?"

Peggy tossed the glove toward the small trash can in the corner of the room. She ran her fingers through her hair and then down her body, stopping to cup her breasts, to comb her fingers through the curls at the apex of her thighs.

"I'm sure you can figure that out."

He didn't wait for a second invitation.

Being with the girls was _fun_. He loved Steve more than he loved anyone or anything else, but being with Steve wasn't fun. It was gut-wrenching, it was emotionally unsatisfying, and sometimes it hurt so much he couldn't breathe. He'd never give it up, not until Steve told him no more, but it wasn't _fun_. Bucky grinned at Peggy, and Peggy smiled back, and as he reached for her, he heard Natasha's throaty laugh.

Peggy went down, flat on her back on the rug, her hair a halo of chocolate curls. Bucky braced himself over her and kissed her, shifting his weight to his good arm and using his left hand to stroke her face, her neck, to pinch her nipple and tease the tips of his fingers down her belly. He cupped her cunt, fingers slipped between her folds, and found her wet. Found her drenched.

He groaned quietly.

Peggy put her fingers in his hair and urged him down.

This was something he could do and do well, and though the worry niggled at the back of his mind that he'd left his backside exposed--again--to Natasha this time, he didn't worry.

They could have him however they wanted him simply because they wanted him.

Peggy's knees came up and her fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his head. Bucky shut his eyes and held her thigh and licked at her clit. He heard her sigh and felt the arch of her body. She thrust her hips against him. He would have smiled. Instead, he pushed two fingers into her, brushed the tip of his little finger over her asshole, and undulated his tongue against her clitoris. She was sweet and hot and so responsive.

Natasha's fingers brushed his on Peggy's thigh. She raked the tips of her nails, gently, up Peggy's leg. Bucky opened his eyes, briefly, and through his hair falling over his face saw Natasha swirl her fingers around Peggy's navel, saw her cup one of Peggy's breasts and pinch her nipple. Peggy's breath caught, a hitch in the natural movement of her body, and Bucky watched Natasha lower her head and capture Peggy's lips.

He closed his eyes. Some things weren't for him. What the girls were to each other--that wasn't his at all.

He turned his hand, his palm flat, and crooked his fingers inside Peggy.

She came, going still and quiet. Bucky felt the fresh flood of her over his hand and on her chin, and then her legs fell open. He withdrew his fingers and held her knees. He licked delicately at her until she tugged at his hair.

"That's enough."

"Not even, but it'll do for now." He lifted his head to smile up at her.

He was rewarded with matching, devious smiles from the girls. Together. Looking down at him. Natasha reached out to brush his hair off his forehead. He turned his face and kissed the inside of her wrist.

She laughed at him.

He didn't mind at all.

Natasha gave him a warm look. "Let's try something new, James."

He kissed her wrist again and squeezed Peggy's thigh. "Whatever you want."

*

They moved to the bed. Bucky caught sight of Natasha disappearing into the bathroom before Peggy moved over him on her hands and knees. She smiled down at him and he smiled back; then she kissed him. It felt like a treat to have her kisses, her soft lips and warm tongue, to have the brush of her breasts against his chest and to be covered by the warmth of her body. He sank back into the bed just a little, his hands fitting at the curve of her waist, his head tipped to deepen each of her slow kisses. His body warmed and his cock twitched. He wasn't sure what he'd done to earn the kisses, but he wasn't about to ask.

When she broke away, he felt the loss and tried to bring her back, pulling at her waist and half-rising to sit, but Natasha's hand on his chest pushed him down, back into the pillows. Peggy slid off of him and Natasha replaced her. Her smile was sharp, as sharp as her kisses were sweet. Bucky put a hand in her hair and the other he slid down her side. Her hips rocked. Bucky felt the brush of silicone against his hip. Natasha let him pull back to look.

Her skin was rosy, the flush of arousal he'd come to recognize meant she was particularly excited about whatever she'd planned. Her nipples were peaked, her breasts full. Lower, past the gently-curved plane of her belly, was the toy. Her favorite, a strapless strap-on in a color closer to his flesh than to hers. He knew that toy. A shiver of anticipation went through him and he smiled up at her.

"I thought this was about you," he said.

Natasha kissed him, her tongue slipping past his lips to brush his. "This is what I want."

Bucky wouldn't have known how to deny her even if he'd wanted to. It wasn't as if they'd never done it before--Natasha liked the power and Bucky liked how much she liked it. He liked the way she fucked him, too, but he was always a little wary of that. It felt selfish and he didn't want to be selfish, not when she already gave him so much.

Bucky flexed his fingers against her scalp and pulled her into another kiss. He breathed his agreement against her lips and was rewarded with a brilliant smile.

She slid away and Peggy replaced her, her own smile small and wicked. Bucky laughed into Peggy's kisses, one hand on her side, the other still tangled in Natasha's hair. Peggy lowered herself, half-covering him, her breasts crushed to his chest and her fingers swirling nonsense patterns on his side and belly, the other fingers combing through his hair.

He expected Natasha's fingers, to be overwhelmed by sensation from both of them touching him and teasing him. Instead, he got her tongue and her lips. Soft and wet and gentle, kisses pressed against his hip and brushed over his lower belly before she licked a wet line the length of his swelling cock. Bucky gasped against Peggy.

Natasha hummed up at him as she took him into her mouth.

Bucky tried to stay still. He didn't want to thrust. He didn't want to writhe. He didn't want to dislodge or discourage either of them--Natasha sucking his cock, Peggy peppering his neck and shoulders and chest with her kisses and bites. He closed his eyes, he rubbed Natasha's hair between his fingers and then rubbed at the back of her neck and her shoulder, gently encouraging her. He slid his hand down Peggy's side and around, over the curve of her ass until he could slip his hand between her parted thighs and stroke his fingertips over her wet slit.

Peggy wriggled.

Natasha let Bucky slip from her mouth. "Don't be greedy, Peggy."

Peggy sighed, thrusting back against Bucky's hand. "Natasha, you have no idea how good this man is to a woman's ass."

Bucky laughed breathlessly and pressed his face into Peggy's hair. Natasha pushed herself up, her hands braced on his thighs, and she eased his legs wider apart. He heard the tear of foil and the slick sound of a condom being rolled open, and then he heard the snap of the lube cap.

"I can guess," Natasha said mildly. She grazed slippery fingertips over his hole.

He couldn't help the whimper. He lifted his knees and canted his hips and she pushed two fingers into him.

Bucky sighed.

Peggy lifted her head to kiss him. "I know what you can do with your mouth, soldier," she murmured.

It didn't bother him when she called him that. He flashed on the last time Steve had called him soldier, but he couldn't remember how it felt, not with Natasha fucking him with two fingers and too much lube, not with Peggy lifting to her knees and straddling him.

That was the real miracle of these women. He could forget how much Steve hurt him.

Peggy shifted until her cunt was over his mouth. Bucky reached down to squeeze Natasha's thigh, gently; he wouldn't forget about her. Then he put both hands on Peggy's legs and he tipped his head. He licked her once and was rewarded with her long sigh. She spread her thighs wider and lowered herself onto him.

Natasha rubbed the blunt head of the sheathed dildo over him and pushed in.

Bucky groaned.

He expected short, quick thrusts, Natasha's hands on his thighs or his hips or fisted in the bed framing him. She liked it rough and fast and Bucky liked that it got her hot, that inevitably she'd be too wet to keep the toy in place and she'd let him finish her off with his fingers or his mouth or his own cock. He liked the feel of her body between his legs, her hips on the insides of his thighs, and the feel of the toy moving in and out of him. Pinned beneath her--and this time, beneath both of them--he felt pleasantly helpless in a way he hadn't since the beginning of everything with Steve. He'd handed the reins over to someone else, but he didn't feel unsafe.

It always surprised him to realize how much he trusted Peggy and Natasha.

He didn't get short, quick thrusts. He got the sinuous roll of Natasha's hips and long, slow thrusts, as if the fleshy toy between her legs was real and she was fucking him _for him_. Her fingers on his hips were gentle and curving, holding him, her thumbs stroked over his hip bones. She pressed closer between his legs and gripped his hips tighter.

Bucky tugged at Peggy to bring her down. He edged his hands up, over her hips, and around, until he could sink a finger between her labia and rub the tip over her clitoris as he licked at her cunt. Peggy's hands went to his belly, to brace herself, to rake the tips of her nails up his skin. He gasped.

Natasha wrapped her hand around his cock and pulled.

The low keen he gave was entirely undignified and, fortunately, muffled by Peggy's pussy.

He was already hard enough to leak; not that it mattered, Natasha had slicked him with more lube, and when she stroked him, he slid easily into the tunnel of her hand. Bucky couldn't stop keep himself from rocking into her fist, from thrusting against her each time she pushed into him. He was close to the edge, so close, and all he wanted--

Peggy shifted forward, taking her cunt from his mouth. "Don't you dare come," she said breathlessly.

He groaned in protest. But Peggy had moved, so he could ease the tips of two fingers into her and press the lengths of his fingers against her clit. He licked back, over her asshole and kept licking, kept pressing, until she opened for him. Until he could fuck her with his tongue. She lifted a hand from his belly and wrapped it around his cock, under Natasha's as she stroked up. He wanted to beg them to let him come, that he couldn't take anymore. It was too much. It was all too much.

Peggy lifted and moved away. Natasha pulled out. Bucky reached for Peggy but missed; he tried to tighten his legs around Natasha, but she just pressed his thighs to the bed. He was twitchy and oversensitive and considering begging when Peggy turned around. He could see her smile now, see the high flush on her cheeks and the glittering brightness in her eyes. Over Peggy's shoulder, Natasha's skin was splotchy with heat, her lips were wet and swollen--from kisses or bites, Bucky couldn't be sure. He watched her look at Peggy with a momentary flash of affection that wasn't meant for him. His heart clenched as Natasha reached for Peggy to settle her over Bucky's hips. There were no secrets between those two. At least, there were no secrets about what they felt for each other.

He heard the tear of a new condom wrapper and saw Natasha fling the foil away. Peggy ran her hands from Bucky's belly to his chest where her nails dug little white half-moons into his skin. He covered her hands with his and shifted his hips beneath her.

She leaned down to kiss him quickly. "Be patient."

Then Natasha's hands were on Peggy's hips again, and Peggy was sinking onto his cock, slick and hot and so tight. Bucky squeezed her hands gently. Peggy gasped, and Bucky felt Natasha pushing into her, filling her up; through the thin wall of her cunt, Bucky felt the girth and pressure of Natasha's toy. He watched the bliss on Peggy's face and had the fleeting thought that he was glad they'd made him wait.

Natasha moved first.

Bucky picked up the rhythm they set, rocking up into Peggy when she sank down. He watched the girls, watched Peggy's eyes shut and her head roll back onto Natasha's shoulder. Natasha ran her hands up Peggy's sides, scraped her nails under Peggy's breasts. Peggy gasped and rocked down harder onto Bucky, driving him deeper, catching her clitoris against his pubic bone.

He held off as long as he could, but when Peggy clenched around him and he heard her long quiet whimpers, he followed her over, coming so hard his vision went dark and his hands left bruises on her thighs.

She slid off of him and flopped down beside him, boneless and spent and--based on the smile curving her lips--satisfied. She looked like she'd like to pass out and Bucky couldn't fault her. He was pretty close, himself.

But Natasha.

He sat up as she slipped off the bed. He watched her ease the bulbous end of the toy out of herself and he shivered at the sight of it. She was slick, flushed, and he doubted very much she'd gotten there.

"Hey." He reached for her.

Natasha chuckled and set the toy aside. She cupped herself and shook her head at him. "I think you're probably ready for a nap."

"I could sleep for a week." His fingers circled her wrist and he tugged. "After."

She came willingly into his arms and straddled his lap. She gave him a fond, private smile. "You really are a good man, James."

He laughed and felt like his heart was twisting. He didn't say anything, just pressed his face to her neck so he could bite the curve of it, wrapped an arm around her to hold her in place, and slipped the other hand between her thighs. She was slick and loose and hot. She tangled her fingers in his hair while he bit at her, while he fucked her hard with three fingers inside her and his thumb on her clit. He was as rough as she liked, as rough as she was with herself, and when she came, it was with a cry muffled in his hair and such strong clenches of her inner muscles that he thought she'd break his fingers.

She went with him when he fell back, and Bucky found himself in the center of a too-big bed, one girl on each side of him, their legs a tangle. He could smell sex and sweat and something a little darker, and the air was too cool, but they pressed close and he was warm. He closed his eyes.

Peggy turned her face away from him. "I think it's time for the first of this weekend's many showers," she announced.

Bucky nodded. Beside him, Natasha made a sound he interpreted as agreement.

None of them moved.

*

He couldn't breathe.

It wasn't just the steam rising around them, either. It was the girls on their knees in front of him in the shower, Peggy with her mouth around his cock and Natasha with her fingers and tongue on his balls. Bucky pushed his head back against the tile and held on to the wall. His knees shook. He wanted to look. He wanted to see what they were doing. But he'd tried that, and the sight of both of them licking at him, their eyes open and on his face, had nearly done him in.

He didn't even try to hold back.

"Peggy-- Natasha-- I--" was all he managed.

It was enough. Peggy pulled off and stroked him through it while Natasha rolled his sac between her fingers. Bucky felt like his spine had melted and was leaking out of his cock.

He heard their low chuckles as he sank down the wall. Then they were wrapping their arms around him, kissing his face and his mouth and each other. Someone shut the water off. It wasn't him--he wasn't sure he could walk.

It had been a hell of a weekend.

Bucky let his head fall onto Peggy's shoulder. She stroked his back and Natasha kissed his cheek.

"Come on." She tugged at his arm. "You have to leave, remember?"

He remembered. He had to get home so he could get a few hours of sleep before he went into work. Inventory.

Inventory was a lot less enticing than Natasha and Peggy.

He harrumphed. "I don't want to go."

Peggy laughed against his ear. "You have to. You're not welcome anymore."

Bucky raised his head and tried to pout at her, but his brain was still a little scrambled and grateful. "I see how it is. You only want me for my body."

"It's a very nice body, but we're done with it now." Natasha rose and held her hand out to him. "It has the wrong parts."

Bucky laughed and let her help him up, then reached down for Peggy. "You didn't seem to mind those parts an hour ago," he teased, and looked over his shoulder at Natasha so he could wink at her.

She gave him a wicked grin.

Half an hour later, dry and dressed and feeling more relaxed than he had in months--maybe even years--Bucky stood just inside the hotel room door with his bag slung over his shoulder. He kissed each woman as long and slow as she'd let him and wondered how inappropriate it would be to tell them how much he appreciated the weekend.

"Don't forget," Peggy said seriously.

Bucky ran a hand over her damp hair and smiled. "I'm pretty sure Steve will be up for it." He winked. "Call me next time you're in town."

Peggy sighed and rolled her eyes to Natasha. "He really is perfect."

"I know." Natasha's smile was small and almost sweet. "It's a pity he won't come to Moscow."

Peggy stepped away from Bucky to wrap her arms around Natasha and rest her chin on her shoulder. "Well, I'm glad he won't come to work for either of us. It makes these trips to the States much less tedious."

Bucky chuckled. He tugged the bag higher on his shoulder and reached behind himself for the door. "Have fun, ladies."

"Try not to think too much about us," Natasha teased.

Bucky grinned. "I make no promises." He backed out of the room. "See you later."

The door closed behind him and he heard the lock click into place. Bucky hummed happily to himself all the way home to Steve.

 


End file.
